The Last Black
by Ravyn89
Summary: Sirius Black's daughter has just lost her father and nearly lost the person she secretly loves: Harry Potter. Now she must battle her emotions and decide if her instincts are quite correct about Snape. Half Blood Prince. Harry/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Last Black**

Author: Ravyn89... or FanFreak

**Summary**: Sirius Black had a daughter. When Wynnifred Black was two, Sirius was framed for murder and she was forced to live in an orphanage. She'd spent most of her life being told she'd turn out just like her parents: evil. So she pretended not to be her parent's daughter. In fact she did so so much that Wynnifred didn't call Sirius her dad until the moment he died. Now he's dead, Voldemort is officially back, and Wynnifred is going to have to make sure that the same thing doesn't have to the person she loves more than anything: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Wynnifred is my character. She has been mine for years and years and years. No stealing!

Author's Note: Welcome to my longest running fandom in the history of me writing fanfics. Back in my pathetic years of Harry Potter I had created a mary-sue who evolved into Sirius' daughter. After a while she developed quite a bit up until the point that her story could stand quite alone from the Harry Potter books so I stopped writing about her. However, I'm feeling nostalgic and I realized I never got her farther than book five. Half-blood Prince and Deathly Hallows came out and I never bothered to find out what would have happened to Wynnifred during these years.

Basically: This is me pathetically reconnecting my early years. Do not read if you're not willing to remember that I'm not trying to write something entirely serious. I mean for this to be pathetic. But that does not mean my writing will necessarily suffer and I will try to be creative with the story line. I know you don't want to reread HBP (and if you did, you'd pick up the actual book) and I don't want to rewrite it.

If you have something to say about my actual _character or my writing_, please review. **If you only want to say how overly done this idea is, and how I'm ruining Rowling's work, etc etc etc... Don't review**. I don't care for your opinion. I'm not in any need of hearing it either. I already know all that. Thank you, but no thank you.

For those of you equally as pathetic/nostalgic as me ^_^ Enjoy.

* * *

It should have become easier after all this time to be homeless. Or rather, to move yet again because circumstances had changed. But this time Wynnifred Black was too keenly aware of the reasons behind this sudden multiple change in residence. There was nothing that could have gotten her ready for this.

Nobody can be prepared to lose their father. Let alone to watch them die before your very eyes while powerful to stop it.

Wynnifred shuddered as she sat upon the front porch of the orphanage she had inhabited on and off for the past sixteen years. The matron seemed happy to finally see her go since Wynnifred often brought undue trouble to the sparse shelter. She looked left and right down the narrow cobbled street that wound in front of the building, waiting for Professor Albus Dumbledore to appear already so she could live this childish nightmare behind.

At two years old Wynnifred had watched her mother killed and the Death Eater responsible – Bellatrix Lestrange – set up the Dark Mark. That innocent green sign of Lord Voldemort's destruction would haunt Wynnifred's dreams for many years to come. She still wasn't quite past them though she had managed to fool many of those around her who cared enough to notice these things.

Remus Lupin, for instance. She had lived with him three times. The first had been directly after watching her mother's murder as he had been called to pick her up. That had lasted a total of three days before the Ministry of Magic decided Wynnifred would grow up better in a muggle orphanage. Away from the Wizarding World as they had discovered that not only was her mother a supposed Death Eater but her father, Sirius Black, was a mass murderer.

How wrong they had been on both accounts. Perhaps not too wrong about Wynnifred's mother, Drysi, but they didn't take into the account that a Dark Mark had obviously been placed above the woman's dead body. Drysi had been marked a traitor. She had, from the moment she received the Dark Mark on her skin, been a spy for Dumbledore.

Wynnifred had been refused by the Board of Governors to attend Hogwarts as they were frightened what would happen if she started to learn magic. So instead at age eleven she had moved in with Remus Lupin where she learned magic from him for about a year and a half. When he nearly attacked her as a werewolf, Wynnifred had found herself back at the orphanage.

Frustrated from her lack of familial ties and the wizarding world keeping her from Hogwarts, as they labored under the assumption she would turn out just like her parents, Wynnifred started to teach herself dark magic. This caught the Ministry's attention and she was unceremoniously chucked into Azkaban for doing so. Dumbledore caught wind of this and wasn't pleased. Fudge caved and allowed Wynnifred to stay at Hogwarts but she wouldn't be able to attend classes.

So for a while the castle became her home. She wasn't allowed near students and teachers could only give her lessons in between teaching official classes and grading papers. Most of Wynnifred's learning was done in the library and Dumbledore gave her permission to browse the Forbidden Section. When Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban Dumbledore used that for leverage. A compromise was reached: Wynnifred could attend classes only if Dementors were allowed to guard the school.

At that time Wynnifred had been nearly fifteen but her schooling in complete. Nobody quite believed she'd be able to pass her O.W.L.s. Because of that and because Dumbledore had a sick humor Wynnifred ended up in third year classes alongside Harry Potter. Though her relationship with him and his friends started out poorly – first because she was simply suspicious and then because they found out she was Black's daughter – the incident with the Time Turner proved her to be trustworthy.

There fourth year brought Harry and Wynnifred closer together, but not quite the way Wynnifred would have liked. Since the end of third year she found she had developed a crush on the noble Potter and his willingness to allow Wormtail to live despite what he did to Harry's parents. Wynnifred didn't have that sort of decency. Still, she tried to be patient and simply be Harry's friend while helping him stay alive during the Tournament.

It hadn't been easy trying to help Harry cope with Cedric Diggory's death. Their fifth year Harry had always been quick to anger, yelling at his own friends. Among them, Wynnifred was the only one that had the guts to yell back. She angered Harry herself on occasion by trying to get him not to pick fights with Umbridge and even forewarning her of a break in to her office when Harry tried to "rescue" Sirius.

This time, though. This time Wynnifred was emotionally all over the place. She had managed to put on a brave face at the end of the year, keep her troubles to herself except for one faithful conversation with Harry in his dormitory.

"I just want to be alone, Fred," Harry had said as she entered the dormitory.

"I know," Fred responded. "I'll be alone with you."

They had sat in silence for a few moments while Harry sat on his bed not bothering to pack anymore. Fred had taken a seat on Ron's bed, staring at the back of Harry's head. She'd wanted to sit next to him and comfort him but that probably wouldn't have been best for either of them.

"You're not the only one that feels miserable, Harry," Fred had finally said bitterly. "Don't you think that every time I look in the mirror I don't get frightened because I look so much like him! I haven't brushed my hair in a week now… Is that why you won't look at me? Well?"

"Yes!" Harry had snapped, turning around to face her. "Yes, you remind me of him. And I'm sorry, okay. I of all people ought to know better."

Tears had brimmed in Fred's eyes. She hadn't cried since that night. And even then it had been less over her father than over Harry. That stupid fool that had chased after Bellatrix and found himself facing down Voldemort. The dark wizard had made it inside Harry's head somehow and it had frightened Fred, like nothing else in the world had.

She was afraid she'd lose Harry. Her Harry. The one that she loved so dearly. She couldn't let him go. She couldn't go much longer without saying something or she'd lose him without saying it just like her father…

But right then hadn't been the time. Fred had realized that.

"We're not meant to be rational people right now," Fred whispered, his throat tight with emotion. "We just lost our family, Harry. We both did. I lost my father. Again. You lost your godfather. I miss him. You miss him. We're all we've got left Harry…"

She still wasn't quite certain which part had moved Harry to get to his feet and walk over to sit next to Fred and hug her. It was a mutual supportive hug, each of them crying tears into the other's shoulder. Fred hated herself for making Harry believe that this was the comfort of a brother and a sister. But if that's what he had needed right then to feel better than Fred would give it.

Ever since she'd been a walking mess. Fred hadn't exaggerated when she said it had been difficult to look in the mirror. Her gaunt grey eyes were a dead ringer to her father's. The pale pallor of her skin could just have easily been a Black family trait as well as the affects of just that short month in Azkaban. Her dark black hair, bangs grown out over the years, hung in matted locks around her face as she truly hadn't bothered to take care of it since school had let out.

There was a faint pop from behind Fred and she got to her feet to watch Dumbledore walk out of the threes on the backside of the orphanage. Why hadn't she thought of that? She tried a weak smile at the Headmaster, knowing that her eyes were probably red from her early morning cry and a completely lack of sleep. Fred hated looking like this in front of Dumbledore and hated even more the idea of arriving at Harry's in this state.

Dumbledore clucked his tongue then pulled out his wand, waving it toward Fred's hair. She reached up and patted it, suddenly feeling it in its usual silky and brushed state.

"I don't suspect you want to see Harry looking like you just crawled out of your grave," chuckled Dumbledore.

Fred frowned. "Where did I sleep in the castle during the summer?"

There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and he smiled down at Fred. It seemed like a Dumbledore type thing to do but she was going to make sure. Talk about graves put her in mind of how close Harry had come last year. She wasn't going to take an imposter Dumbledore to his house.

"Where you slept during the year as well," said Dumbledore. "In the room off of my office."

"Sorry, Professor," Fred said, relaxing slightly. "Just had to make sure."

"Oh, I quite agree," said Dumbledore. "And the best of us ought to be as paranoid as you, Miss Black." Fred cringed at the reminder that she was the last Black. The portrait of her ancestor, Phineas, had almost forgotten her before catching her cleaning out her room at Grimmauld place and giving her a lecture on how to keep the Blacks alive.

"However," Dumbledore had continued, and Fred tried not to remember her last few days in her family home… even if it had never felt like her home. "I fear that your paranoia could be dangerous to you."

"I'm sure Hermione will keep me under control," Fred said, reaching out for Dumbledore's arm. She knew how to apparate, after all she was a legal adult by wizarding world standard. But this way they wouldn't get separated. However she paused when she noticed Dumbledore's blackened hand. "I don't suppose you care to…"

"Not today, Wynn," said Dumbledore and she gave him a dirty look for using her childhood nickname. She quite preferred Fred. "Not today."

She wasn't going to argue. And even the irritation at being called "Wynn" seemed to be smothered up by something inside her. It was alike all of her emotions had been roped off except for her grief. Fred took a deep breath and instead gripped Dumbledore's left hand, turning with him on the spot.

* * *

I apologize that the majority of this first chapter is summary. But I think it is important for those of you that care to know what Wynnifred has gone through. At least the first scene I wrote isn't really a rewrite of some scene in HBP. I apologize in advance because there probably will be some like that. Mostly because I just want to see how Wynnifred will interact in the story and don't always want to come up with some way that it'll go differently. **This is an story of emotional development of a character**, that is the purpose me writing it, not to come up with my own story.

Again, only review if you're going to mention my writing or my character. Do not flame me for having an overdone storyline, etc. _I don't care!_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Last Black

Author: FanFreak

Disclaimer: I do not own the Durselys. I don't own part of this dialogue. I don't own Harry either *tear* I do own Wynnifred. She's my character. I love her and you can't use her :P Get your own dark and depressed character!

Author's Note: I... really tried hard not to make this a repeat of Will and Won't. However, some of Dumbledore's lines are just too classic NOT to use! So usually the ones that are copied straight out of the book are the ones I love! Some of the conversation from the book still goes on and I chose not to copy it out because I figure you to be smart enough to figure it out for yourself. This is Fred's story and I'm focusing on her. That means sometimes dialogue will be cut because it doesn't pertain to her at all.

I'm going to repeat: I don't want any reviews that pertain to the fact that this story is over done or whatever thing you want to say for _"the good of the fandom."_ I will, however, completley appreciate critical feedback on my **writing** and my **character**. Thank you!

* * *

Privet Drive seemed like every other muggle place Fred had ever been to. She looked around slowly, hand slipping into her pocket to clutch at her wand. It wasn't hard to remember, in this lighting, that just last year Dementors had attacked Harry not far from here. Though that had been Umbridge's doing, Fred was wary of something similar happening again.

Or Dumbledore was right and she was too paranoid to the point of simply being jumpy. A frown on her face, Fred followed the headmaster toward the house – which looked like every other house – labeled number four. Suddenly, she was jumpy for a completely different reason. She was nervous coming to see Harry like this. Nervous even more so because they had barely talked since that day in the boy's dormitory.

Dumbledore knocked. The door opened. A large man who looked at first shocked and then rather displeased to see the two of them was standing on the threshold. He just stood there, gaping at the two of them. Over his shoulder a boy wearing glasses and his jet black hair messier than usual appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did _not _warn you that I was coming," Dumbledore was saying pleasantly. "However, let us assume that you have invited us warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."

"Hullo, Harry," said Fred, following Dumbledore into the house as the Professor shut the door. "Have a nice holiday?"

"Better than you, it seems," Harry said, his emerald eyes wandering her face.

"I don't mean to be rude-" the man that had to be Vernon Dursely started.

"-yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Dumbledore finished, nodding slightly. Fred looked up at him, wide eyed, slightly in awe. "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia."

It really ought to be funny. But it was a sense of how numb Fred was that she could hardly break a smile. Harry, she knew, would be too horrified to laugh while still in his uncle's house. But once away from here and safe with the Weasleys, he'd repeat the story and laugh. She couldn't even try to imagine that ever happening. Fred's eyes focused on some stray dust mote floating in the air.

"Aren't – aren't we leaving, sir?"

Fred's attention was drawn away from random bits of stuff clinging to the air and toward the group of people leaving the entry way. Guiltily she followed, watching ad Dumbledore charmed a sofa so that it forced the Dursleys to sit down. Something was definitely wrong with her, now. Fred really ought to be laughing whether still here or not. Instead she sat upon the arm of the chair Harry settled down into, rather like a bodyguard, eyes locked upon the Dursleys.

"I would assumed that you were going to off me refreshment," Dumbledore was saying to Vernon, "but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

Harry looked up at Fred, eyebrows raised, as if she had some sort of control over Dumbledore.

"Hey, he brought me, I didn't bring him," murmured Fred. Harry lifted a hand to cover his mouth as if he had been about to laugh. She looked at him incredulously, not knowing how he could laugh at a time like this! After Cedric had died he had been a mess. At the end of last year with Sirius dead he'd been a mess. Now he felt he could _laugh_?

Then again, it had been a comment most characteristic of Fred and ever since Ron had gotten mad about Harry being in the Triwizard Tournament, she had usually said these sorts of comments to make him laugh. Though Ron was now his friend again and as silly as ever, Fred was still the one Harry went to for cheering up. She could sympathize better, he had said. Not in so many words, but that had been the meaning.

"…Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and he left you everything he owned."

Harry's hand dropped and he frowned at Dumbledore, his eyes flickering at Fred. She felt icy cold and for a moment couldn't bother to feel sorry that man was dead. He was angry at him, like she'd never been before. Tears started to irritate her eyes and she glared desperately at the carpet to make them go away. Everything to Harry? The man had a god damn daughter! The most decent thing he could have done was at least _pretend_ like that mattered.

"I don't want it," said Harry in a low voice. "It all belongs to Fred."

Something was tightening in Fred's chest and it was becoming difficult to breathe. She could hardly see, everything was going dark on the edges. Sirius had forgotten about her. He had loved Harry more. Yet Harry was still here, who had always defended the man against Fred, and believed that what Sirius had done was wrong.

She really didn't deserve to have him as a friend.

"Oh, you're quite right," said Dumbledore. "I believe Sirius didn't put it into his will as such simply because the Black name has its own spell on it. Anything owned by a Black will go to the closes Black in relation automatically."

"So, why the will?" said Harry and for some reason he reached out and gripped Fred's hand. She jumped a bit, her attention and focus coming back to reality, away from her thoughts and emotions. Her breathing eased and her vision cleared. Instead all of her being seemed centered in the touch of Harry's hand on hers.

"Ah." Fred said this suddenly. Sirius hadn't forgotten about her. Strange how she was being so rational when every fiber in her body wanted to hold Harry and never let him go. "He was afraid that because nobody officially observed me as a Black that it might not go to me."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore, nodding. "So he wrote everything to Harry, probably believing the two of you would stay close."

"Fred keeps the Gringotts account, I don't need the money," said Harry quickly. "And you can keep Grimmauld place for headquarters. I never want to go back."

"That is generous," said Dumbledore and at first Fred wasn't sure which was. After all, nobody was likely to ever go to Grimmauld place again. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily. It has a very specific version of the Black spell as it must be passed to a direct _male _descendent. We are certain that it will follow the laws of the will and it may go to Bellatrix since she's a married Black."

"So basically Fred and I would need to get married to make absolutely certain the house didn't go to Bellatrix?" said Harry, a hint of revulsion in his voice. Fred was pretty certain he meant it toward Bellatrix. But a rather illogical portion of her mind caused her heart to drop because it was quite certain Harry meant it meant that he and Fred should never in their right minds get married.

There was an amused twinkled in Dumbledore's eye but as he opened his mouth and then shut it again, Fred had the impression he was rather lost for words. Albus Dumbledore? With nothing to say? Somebody call the _Prophet_. There was more news in this than anything about Voldemort of Harry being the "chosen one."

"Yes, that would certainly solve that problem but as you are still underage Harry…" said Dumbledore, though some how he looked really uncomfortable. Fred arched an eyebrow at him and he did a rather odd shrug. "However, there is a simple test to see whether the magic of the will worked."

"What test?" said Harry slowly, looking up at Fred again.

"Well, if you have indeed inherited the house that also means you've inherited…" Dumbledore flicked his wand and with a loud pop a filthy screaming, crying house elf was kicking and screaming on the Dursley's carpet.

"What the _hell_ is that?" bellowed Vernon.

"Kreacher," finished Dumbledore.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" cried the house elf, loudly, but with a hoarse voice as if he wasn't used to using his voice in such a loud tone.

It was hard to describe Fred's feelings toward the pitiful house elf in front of her. In a way he was responsible for her father's death. At the same time she couldn't blame Kreacher. Still, he was loud and obnoxious. But part of Fred had always agreed with Hermione on house elf rights. She had read a few books in Grimmauld place – and other places – about house elf breeding and how their will had slowly been bred out of them. It was disgusting, immoral, and it made her righteously angry.

But that didn't change what the house elves were now and Fred wasn't about to take a time turner to break the last that badly.

Kreacher was starting to yell so loud that Fred could hardly hear her own thoughts. She'd barely even paid attention to what Dumbledore and Harry had been talking about.

"Kreacher, _shut up_!" growled Fred. Acting as if he was choking, the house elf grasped at his throat but didn't say another word. Didn't even utter a sound.

"Well, we can be certain he'll follow your orders," said Dumbledore, looking from Fred to Kreacher in slight surprise.

"He respected me in a twisted sort of way," said Fred. "After all, I did study dark magic for a while. I am on the family tree…"

"This is true," said Dumbledore. "But let us make certain that Harry can as well otherwise we'll never know about the house. Order Kreacher to do something."

"Er… Kreacher, stand up," said Harry, looking from Dumbledore to Fred with a look of confusion. Though the house elf threw Harry a dirty look he slowly got to his feet. Then he stared at Fred, almost imploringly though the angry look on his face stopped her from lifting her own order.

"Great," said Fred. "Now go to Hogwarts and work there. You will be good to the other house elves and will _do your job_!"

Sweeping a sarcastic bow – Fred wasn't sure how that was possible completely mute – Kreacher popped away, hopefully to Hogwarts. She looked away from that spot, her belly aching as she thought about all of the things that had led her to this place. This point in her life. Things she regretted doing now became helpful. But at what price?

Unable to sit in the same room as all of these people, Fred jumped to her feet. "I'm going to pack your things, Harry. If you don't mind…"

"Yeah," said Harry, frowning. "If _you_ don't mind…"

"I don't want _her_ wandering around my house!" growled Vernon, jabbing a meaty finger in Fred's direction.

Fred turned and caught his gaze in a glare that would have put McGonagall to shame.

"I don't know if you've heard about Harry's godfather," she growled. "You know, the murderer that escaped from the wizard's prison. Well, I'm his daughter and I'm nastier than he is!"

The man's face turned white and he seemed to attempt to sink backwards into the sofa. Fred's grey eyes were blazing and she continued to stare at the Durseley, as if daring them to try and stop her again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry duck his head and she couldn't be positive whether he was trying to hide a laugh or a frown. Certainly if Fred hadn't been as pissed off and as miserable as she actually seemed, she would have done this same thing just to be funny.

Maybe. Or maybe she would have said the same exact words but with a grin slapped across her face. She couldn't tell, because that old part of her had died. Her stomach twisted and she practically fled the sitting room, climbing up the stairs, and into what appeared to be Harry's room. She was pretty certain none of the muggles had wizarding textbooks flung around the room.

Gasping, Fred crouched down inside the door, tears rolling down her face. It was probably true, too, what she had said. Sirius had never murdered anybody, had been a loyal friend, and a brave member of the Order of the Phoenix. Fred, however, had gone to Azkaban for a reason! She hadn't been allowed to go to school normally and most of the time didn't even feel like she belonged in Gryffindor, no matter what the sorting hat had said.

She was a selfish brat who had wanted her father all to herself. At the expense that she had probably hurt his feelings. All this time Fred had always called him Sirius and it wasn't until he was falling backwards into the veil that she had been able to call him "dad." She expected him to be a father.

And she had never been a daughter.

* * *

Okay, longer this time. Again, most of Dumbledore's lines that I copied from the book were my fave and I could bear not to mention them ^_^ Also, since you're not reading any of the crappy versions of Fred's adventures 3-5, coversations about between Harry and Fred (sometimes with Ron and Hermione along for the ride) arose often, especially fourth year, about whether Sirius was treating Fred right. Fourth year Harry found out that Fred had known that Sirius had paid for the Firebolt because it was also her account. He offered to pay her back which she got angry about and left... So I was referencing that in this chapter a bit.

I'm not sure if the Black family name spell really made any sense... I just thought it was a cool idea and seemed to fit the story. It's just this idea that when a Black passes on all their belongings automatically pass on to their closest living relative... probably determined by the family tree (which Fred is on because her mother was a Death Eater and she studied dark magick... I don't know when Mrs. Black died but her portrait might have told Kreacher to put Fred on the tapestry... doesn't matter, she IS on there!) So Sirius making a will was completely unnecessary but he wanted to make certain that there wouldn't be some sort of loophole that would make all of his belongings go to Bellatrix or the Malfoys.

It was not because he didn't love Fred! I just never liked the idea of her being on the will... It just has more of an emotional impact if the will says everything goes to Harry. Now I came up with a really good excuse (I think). Okay, sorry to waste your time! Chapter three will be written when I get a chance...


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